


I don’t drink tea, he says

by orphan_account



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, First fic for this fandom, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I did this instead of sleeping, M/M, i wrote this at 2 am don’t hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “What’s got you up so late babes?” he asks, toying with his black tie.“Can’t sleep-“ You say, rubbing the flesh of your hand against your closed eyes.A worried am expression flashes over his face, but is quickly replaced by a small smile suggestive smile, paired with a wiggle of the eyebrows and a“And you needed me to help you sleep?”You weakly bat him away, laughing a no out as you trudge toward the kitchen, your green haired ghost man following close behind.or, reader cannot sleep so they summons a certain friend of theirs,
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	I don’t drink tea, he says

bEeTleJuIcE 

You lay awake, stare traced at the ceiling, watching the grainy spots dance around in your vision.  
You turn, checking the time for what feels like the tenth time tonight.  
It read two twenty three in green numbers, the harsh noise of the button making you cringe. 

You decide to get up, hoping that maybe a glass of tea will help you fall asleep. 

“Beej..” you half heartedly mutter, not expecting him to show up. 

But then there he is, a playful expression on his face as he pops into existence.  
“What’s got you up so late babes?” he asks, toying with his black tie.  
“Can’t sleep-“ You say, rubbing the flesh of your hand against your closed eyes.  
A worried am expression flashes over his face, but is quickly replaced by a small smile suggestive smile, paired with a wiggle of the eyebrows and a  
“And you needed me to help you sleep?” 

You weakly bat him away, laughing a no out as you trudge toward the kitchen, your green haired ghost man following close behind. 

“What are you doing?” He says, feet lifting off of the ground so he could peer over your shoulder. 

“Making tea” You mumble, dropping the teabag inside your favorite mug.  
“Would you like any?” you ask, turning around to face him. 

He is about to crack a,  
‘no I don’t drink tea-!’  
But then he sees your expression.  
Your eyes are dim, a muted tone of their usual brilliance.  
Your lips are turned up in a weak smile, offering out a tea mug. 

“Sure- I’ll try it..” He says, still inspecting you intently. 

You turn to make the tea, boiling the water and dropping the tea bags into the mug.  
You inhale as you pour, savoring the calming flowery scent that floods your nostrils.  
You feel the weight of a stare on the small of your back, so you turn around, catching a look of fear on your friends face.  
“Bug?” you ask, becoming concerned over his expression  
“Have you had any sleep?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.  
“Not tonight..” You mumble, face hearing at the position.  
“What about last night?”  
“A couple hours..” you say offhandedly, not wanting beetlejuice to worry to much. 

You don’t noticed the light, almost airbrush streaks of blue and light purple in his hair. 

“Babes..”  
You silently give him the tea, beckoning him to the couch.

“Lets just.. talk.” you say, almost a question. 

He understands and begins a conversation, his hands clawed around the mug tightly.  
He hasn’t to taken a sip. 

Your conversation drifts, minutes passing quickly.  
Your bodies drift together, his arm now around you as you lean into his soft chest. 

You being closing your eyes, your mind slowing to a crawl. 

“What is up with b-“ He begins, then notices your closed eyes and measured breathing.  
He tenses up, the roots of his hair turning a light shade of pink.  
His hand is lifted above your head, worried to wake you. 

His eyes rove your face, taking in your candid features.  
Your mouth was open slightly, allowing small puffs of breath to escape.  
You snuggled a bit closer, nose scrunching up with a small snort.  
More pink hair.  
Slowly, oh so slowly, he lowered his hand down, resting it on your head.  
When you didn’t make a move to wake up he began playing with your hair, fascinated with how soft it was.  
He marveled as the light caught it, making the highlight a golden color white in the low yellow lighting. 

He watched you, eyes tracing over your features as if to capture your every curve and tip. 

“Sweet dreams” He mumbles, meaning it very much.


End file.
